Talk of Tomatoes
by crackberries
Summary: Romano expresses his hate for just about everything through the stupid diary that the stupid tomato idiot gave him.
1. Chapter 1

**Exchange with LynnyLiz. I think I said I was gonna do some GerIta, but I think I threw enough hints in to compensate /fail and I love this pairing too much**

**one day I'll post something serious. one day, one day.**

**Warnings: Romano.**

* * *

**April 29th **

Dear Diary,

Fuck you. And fuck you too, Antonio, don't pretend I don't know you're reading over my shoulder. Why the fuck would I write in this diary, even if it has a fucking tomato on the cover? And why the hell did you draw my face onto the tomato? Are you stupid?

No, don't answer, I know already.

-L.V

* * *

**March 1st **

I can't believe I'm writing in this shit again. At least that tomato bastard isn't looking over this time. He gave this to me because he said that it would be good "therapy". What the fuck do I need therapy for? I'm fucking happy already. I don't see why people think I'm sad, dammit. Just because I yell doesn't mean I'm not happy, just really fucking annoyed (and you would be too if you were called a tomato every ten seconds).

I'm so fucking happy I piss rainbows.

I've got more happiness in my pinky toe then Feliciano will ever have.

So fuck off.

-L.V

* * *

**March 3rd **

Feli came over with the potato bastard and the asian guy. Who is obviously having a bad influence on him, because as soon as Feli burst in he was like

"NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-CHANNNNN"

HOLY SHIT

and then

"nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan nii-chan"

what the fuck

I told him we're not fucking Japanese, we're goddamn Italian he's like lololol I don't care because I'm too stupid to think for myself and I spend too much time around bastards who eat shit food

well not really, but that's what he meant

xx

So Japan left, but Hasslehoff hadn't gotten the idea

You think he woulda the first hundred times I told him to get lost, but nooo

He's all like this is Feliciano's house too, and he invited me

douche

so I went somewhere else

and that happened to be Spain's place (fuck you no one else was free k) and he was all bubbly and cheery and happy and Spain-y that I was here and everything

ughhhhhhhhhhh

why does he have to be friends with that wino and potato bastard #2

_why_

now i'm in a fucking closet in Spain's room because a CERTAIN BLOND PERVERT and his FREAKY ASS ALBINO FRIEND won't leave me the fuck alone

this is all antonio's fault

-L.V

* * *

**March 4th **

So I fell asleep in the closet and when I wake up I'm in that tomato bastard's bed, it's the next day, and he's there beside me

I squea

I yelled when I saw him, becuase anyone would if they saw that pervert in their bed. It woke him up and he was all like "Awww My Lovi looks like a little tomato again~" so I head butted him and stomped right out of his stupid house.

Right after he made me paella (i swear he doesn't know how to make anything else)

Ok so maybe I didn't leave immediately the house but it's the bastard's fault for bribing me with food and a shitload of tomatoes

He saw that I brought this stupid journal with me and he had that huge stupid smile of his and was all fucking ecstatic that I was writing in it

he tried to read it but then i head butted him again, and now my head hurts

bastard

-L.V

* * *

**March 5th **

Okay, so maybe I stayed at Spain's an extra day. But that's because when I called Feli, he was breathing all heavy, and so was the potato bastard in the back. UGH

I don't think I'm going to go back to my place for a _week_.

And they better have cleaned up, dammit. It's bad enough that my brother's innocence is being completly ruined, especially by that potato bastard. I don't want my new leather sofa getting that too.

ANYWAYS so I'm sitting in the kitchen right now because Antonio went to the market to get some groceries. He kept on asking me to come, but I was in too shitty a mood. Whatever, he can deal.

I wonder why Antonio even bought this for me. What a loser. If he wanted me to get "therapy" then he coulda just sent me to the goddamn shrink. I kept a few journals when I was younger though, so the habit's reattached itself to me like a leech or Antonio.

Speaking of that bastard, I bet he just wants me to write a confession or something in here, then he'll steal this and read it.

Alright, here's your confession, you pervert.

Fuck You

Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Bastard Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You

Happy?

-L.V

* * *

**March 6th**

STILL AT SPAIN'S BECAUSE A CERTAIN POTATO BASTARD HAS NO SELF CONTROL AND A CERTAIN BROTHER OF MINE IS TOO STUPID FOR HIS OWN GOOD

speaking of bastards with no self control, Antonio tried crawling in bed with me again. I tried to push him off but it didn't work (who the fuck is so lazy and strong at the same time?) and he's all like

"But Lovi, this is _my _bed! ~"

SO WHAT? That didn't give him the right to try and sleep with me! And I was about to tell him this, and then he pulled my curl.

What the fuck!

!

Sometimes, I wish the law could be bent and you could send a nation to jail.

That dumbass STILL doesn't know what it does to me! Even after I had lived with him for so long! And he kept on pulling it and calling me a tomato (bastard!) until I gave in and let him stay.

The bastard tried to cuddle too. Cuddling is for pussies, which I obviously am not, nor am in possession of.

I let him. But only because I was tired, dammit. And it wasn't cuddling, because I'm not a fucking girl. It was sharing heat.

-L.V

* * *

**March 8th**

I think I'll move in with Antonio.

First, because he cooked something other than paella for a change.

Second, I don't think I'm going to ever go into my house. Ever. Again. I went back, because I thought it was safe, and potato bastard had left.

I thought wrong. Because apparently my place has become a whore-house. With only one whore, and one air-headed Italian customer.

After yelling at the two, I packed some shit and left. I went to Spain's (What the hell, I think it's become like an automatic reflex), and of course, he was all fucking chipper to see me.

After I finished complaining to him, you know what he did? He made me fucking tiramisu. And even though it wasn't as good as the one Feliciano makes, the bastard managed to not screw up.

And now my stomach hurts like shit. Why the hell did he let me eat so much? Why the hell did he make so much?

And we're still sharing a bed. Not because I want to, dammit! His bed's the only good one, and I'm not sleeping on any of the guest beds. God knows who else slept on there. Like _France _or_ Prussia. _It's not like we haven't done this before. Whenever a squirrel decided to piss on my bed or I had a nightmare (I was little, okay) I used to get in bed with him. So this is no different. Not at all.

Speaking of bed, you know what surprises me? I'm writing this in bed right now. I thought tomato bastard was asleep, but he woke up like 10 minutes ago and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was just writing in the stupid diary he gave me. And he didn't say anything. He just rolled over and went back to sleep. He didn't even ask me what I was writing, or if he could read it or any shit like that.

The hell?

-L.V

* * *

**March 9th**

Potato bastard left my house (finally)

Why am I still at Spain's?

Why is he back to making paella?

-L.V

_

* * *

_

**March 10th**

I just realized my birthday's in a week. After so many, you tend to forget. But stupid, cheerful, Spanish tomato bastards tend to remember. But that's probably because Feliciano's birthday is on the same day (twins, no shit) and everyone remembers _him. _Anyways, so Antonio asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

I gave him a full list of things I wanted, but he was like

"I love you, but I can't afford to get you all that Lovi, you'll have to pick one~" and then I was like

wait.

HE SAID HE LOVED ME

xxx

Alright, totally unnecessary freak out there. Spain, being the country of passion, would obviously throw that L word around like nothing, and it's not like he hasn't said it before. If it's got a pulse and walks, he'll hug it and love it.

But that bastard should know already that I take things very _seriously_

Like that time when he jokingly proposed to me! I joked back and said "Three meals and a nap" but the whole thing actually affected me more than I let on. Because for ten seconds (only! I swear) I thought he was actually serious. And it would have been nice if it actu

fuck, I think I'm going to kill myself.

-L.V

* * *

**March 11th**

Antonio went out drinking tonight with France and Prussia. He tried to get me to go but there's no way I'm going to go get wasted on cheap beer with three of the biggest perverts ever.

So instead, I invited Feliciano over so he could make me dinner, and for a change he didn't bring the potato bastard. He's in the kitchen right now making pasta, and I'm on the couch in the living room watching some shitty Spanish soap that Antonio told me to record for him which I am totally not doing right now.

I've been thinking on what to ask the bastard for my birthday. New Vespa? A thousand crates of tomatoes? The tiramisu that he's actually getting really good at? (though I'm not telling him that, because then that's all he'd make. Like that one time I told him his paella wasn't half-bad and he hasn't stopped making it yet)

Ahh, Feli's calling me. And for a change, he's not calling me "nii-chan" he's calling me fratello, like the Italian he _is_.

xxx

Ve, big brother, you write as much as you talk about big brother Spain!

xxx

I CAN'T BELIEVE HE ACTUALLY FUCKING READ MY DIARY

AND HE WROTE IN IT! WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL! HE EVEN PUT IN A VE! WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL! I'M GETTING A LOCK FOR THIS SHIT

And I do NOT write a lot about Antonio! I just have like ten fucking entries in this thing! And it's not my fault those ten entries fell on the days I was with Spain. And I was with him because A CERTAIN TWO PEOPLE JUST WOULDNT LEAVE MY FUCKING HOUSE

and I told him that, and he's like "Ve, nii-chan, you talk about him a lot too! But it's ok, that's what people in love do~"

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Everyone's so annoying. And they wonder why I'm always irritated?

Anyways, so I kicked him out (after he finished the pasta) but the little bastard was too cheerful to be actually sad, saying something about how I didn't deny it.

We're not in love! Spain loves everyone, and he definitely doesn't love me in _that_ kind of way. I think that tomato bastard is too dense to love _anyone_ in that way. This is the person who is completely oblivious to being groped!

I'm not saying that I tried or anything, dammit, i'm talking about that wine bastard.

speaking of bastards, one just came home right now.

-L.V

* * *

**SPELLING/GRAMMAR ERRORS: AUTHENTICITY OYE OYE OYEE**

**Yeah, this will be a small multi-chaptered fic.**

******I love poking fun at like everything within both the series and the fanverse , such as overuse of paella :P I'm probably guilty of a lot of these, so it's all good ;D**  


**reviews?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Shortish chapter. Sorry :C Thanks for all the reviews guys :D**

* * *

**March 12th**

Who the hell uses singing as a cure for a hangover? Especially horrible, off-key, and extremely loud singing.

Apparantely the same type of people who have NO DECENCY AT ALL and roam around the house in only his boxers.

I don't care if this is his house dammit! the bastard should be more considerate towards guests! I don't want to see his toned a

I DONT WANT TO SEE A HALF NAKED SPAIN IN THE MORNING DAMMIT

speaking of being considerate towards guests, you know what he did?

he gave me the usual annoying as hell morning hug, and THEN WHAT?

he gave me a good morning kiss on the cheek

what the HELL? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

After I decked him in the stomach, he went off about how i used to let him do that all the time. yeah, when I was little, dumbass! when I didn't know he was such a pedophile!

I'm going back to my house now because it should be completely rid of any traces of the potato bastard now, and I'm currently in the backseat of Spain's car and soooo bored. Why? Because he insisted on driving me back, even though I'm fully capable of doing it for myself (bastard). He also insisted on keeping a crate full of tomatoes in the front instead of me. So that he could "keep an eye" on them and he's_ talking_ to them...lovingly. puke.

why do people think my anger's always misdirected?

xx

home sweet home sweet home

no potato bastards

no annoying brother (but he's with that potato-eating douche)

no tomato bastards

I am in heaaaaven and with that crate of tomatoes, because no way I was going to let that dumbass take them home after kicking me out of the front seat for them

i'm also watching TV

It's some wedding program, but I'm only watching it for Feli's sake (and it's a totally manly thing to do so shut the fuck up) Even though him and the macho potato tend to forget they're engaged, _someone _has to be ready with something when they decide that they want to get married. Which, by the way, should be fucking never.

i'm not having a potato-in-law

If Spain was serious and I accepted (for convinience, dammit) then we'd do none of this fluffy shit on the television.

Because fluffy shit like that is for women, and I'm not going to squeal over the colour of my roses because everyone knows white roses are cliche and that red roses are much better and more passionate for a day like the wedding day and you should not place the in-laws beside each other because theyre already pissed at each other because their kids are totally banging.

And what the hell is with walking down the aisle? It's so much wasted effort and like half the guests are asleep by the time the person gets to the altar.

I think Antonio would walk down the aisle, because there's no way I'm doing something so damn stupid.

dammit

mental image begone!

* * *

**March 13th**

Who starts cleaning the house for a birthday party 4 days early? Idiot brothers, that's who.

He tried to make me clean out all the washrooms! What the fuck? They're fucking clean enough, thank you very much, and even if they weren't I wouldn't bother because they'd get dirty anyways from the weirdos that my brother calls 'friends'

Speaking of birth days, Spain called this morning and asked what I wanted for my birthday...5 fucking times

he's fucking stupid

He called me the first time and I told him that I don't know

he called me the second time, 5 minutes later, if I know now, and I told the bastard that if i didnt know 5 minutes ago, I wouldn't know now

He called me the THIRD time half an hour later, and I told the bastard to fuck off and hung up

the fourth time was him apologizing and just saying that he just wanted to know what i wanted for my birthday and I told him that after a fucktillion years of knowing me, he should know what i would want (because it's true!)

and then the FIFTH fucking time because some people are just a bit too damn stupid to take a hint, he called and told me that i was like some puzzle or some shit (really? a puzzle? the fuck?) and he needed just a tiny bit of help and i told him he could go suck my dick for all i care

then he was all like "Oh, so that's what you want for your birthday~"

THE

FUCK

* * *

**March 14th**

My head hurts so much from the excessive stupid that surrounds me. For some reason, Feliciano wants to _decorate_ our house for the birthday party.

We're not fucking 6 year olds dammit!

A list of what is in Feliciano's bag of fucktardery:

banners

streamers

more streamers

fucking _glitter_

and these weirdass red paper lanterns that he said Spain told him to get because they look like tomatoes

he also asked me if I'm still writing in my dia-journal and if I'm still talking about Spain a lot and I told him to go mind his business. And now he's putting glitter on the paper lanterns that he just hung up so they "sparkle like stars"

Time to go back to tomato bastard's place

xx

...or not.

He seems to have remembered the phone conversation from the other day, and asked if I still wanted that. I glared at him, hoping the perverted bastard would get the hint. He didn't.

My body repelled off his stupidity all the way back home.

* * *

**March 15th**

Can't escape

Too much streamers

Can't breathe

Stupid ass chocolate cake, does it really have to be in the shape of Italy? and does it _really _have to have two tiny dolls of us on it?

Too much glitter

One too many potato bastards coming over to 'help'

Our kitchen is currently completely destroyed because Feliciano's becoming a cooking maniac. NO ONE'S GOING TO EAT THAT MUCH SHIT, NOT EVEN ME.

Two more days til this torture is over

* * *

**March 16th**

ONE. MORE. DAY.

shit I will be so glad when this is done.

Some people were obviousley too fucking stupid to read the invitations that were sent out, and now our house is over crowded. Speaking of our invitations, Feliciano made them (big mistake) and they're so fucking _gay_

He drew us as how we looked when we were little kids, except he put me in a dress too. And he didn't even draw it in the way he normally does. Japan showed him how to draw him in the style with his weird cartoons, and that's what Feliciano drew on the invitations. They're also pasted onto bright pink paper. Not even a hot pink, so that people would think that he's just on a constant trip or something. No, just bright pink.

Anyways, as I wrote before, our house is fucking full. We have potato bastard, Japan, potato bastard #2, wine bastard, and to round off the trio of dipshittery, tomato bastard.

Speaking of tomato bastard, now that I have bought a lock for this stupid journal (which is not a fucking girly thing to do) I can finally write some shit in here in peace without having to censor everything from a certain dumbass brother's idiot eyes.

Today, tomato bastard kissed me. No build up through the day, no build up in the last five minutes before it happened even, no warning, no. We were in the basement, getting out all the good liquor, and I asked him to get this one bottle from the top rack. not because I couldn't reach because the bastard's like only 4 inches taller than me anyways, but my hands were filled with bottles. And he's all "Ofcourse, anything for you Lovi~" in that stupid voice.

Then he kissed me. The bastard kissed me on the fucking _lips_.

Of course, being the manly man I am, I did not freak out. I calmly set down all the bottles I was holding, then proceeded to deck him. He's all like some whiney shit on how I was so mean but it balanced out because I was going all red like a fucking tomato and he found it so cute because he's missing like half the braincells in his head. I told him to go suck it up and be a man and go fuck off.

Well, almost. I tried. I told him to go fuck off and he's like "But this is part of your birthday gift!"

I told him in a loud, manly voice (I do not _scream_) that he should...atleast give a warning. I would have totally continued on, telling him that he should give a warning so that I could kick his ass in advance, but he kissed me again. THIS TIME HE USED TONGUE. The bastard literally forced my lips open and tried to make out with me!

...

...

...

..

.I was kinda curious, and in one of my really fucking generous and slightly stupid moods, so I let him. ONLY FOR TEN SECONDS.

Then he said it was like eating a tomato, because I was red on the outside, and tasted like one on the inside.

WAY TO KILL THE MOOD DUMBASS

And then it struck me, that he said it was part of my birthday gift.

I HOPE THAT BASTARD DIDNT THINK THAT 'SUCK MY DICK' COMMENT WAS SERIOUS

and he wonders why i kicked him out of my bed when he tried to crawl in. I think I'm going to just curl up in bed until tomorrow is over.

Wow, I sound like a teenage girl. Laaame

Damn tomato bastard. I don't even feel like talking about the rest of my day, which was equally stupid because Feliciano wanted to go shopping for matching outfits for the party tommorow, and threw a shitfit when I said that it was the stupidest idea ever. And then I had to end up going with him, because other wise the potato bastard would try to 'comfort' him, and then the wino would try to join in. 3 hours of going through tons of stores, and the only reason I spent so much money in buying so many clothes was because I needed them, not because they looked fucking good and I couldn't help myself dammit!

One day, I'm going to kill them all. or atleast lock them up in a smelly dungeon with Russia.

* * *

**I can see Romano always on the verge of spilling his heart out into his diary, but stopping himself just short 'cause he's oh so manry. Next update should be soon ;D reviews please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**...Holy shit. I'm flattered at how many people like this.**

**Thanks for all the reviews :D**

**-insertheartshere-**

**Only two entries. But it wouldn't flow as well if I put more. Sorry :C**

* * *

**March 17th**

Just finished setting up fully for the party, and now I'm in my room again, because if I stay too long with everyone here, I'll catch some stupid.

Everyone's downstairs waiting for allll the guests to official start it, which is dumb as fuck since most of them are already here.

Why do people come so early anyways?

But Feliciano won't "start" the party till the bastard with the living eyebrows, the trigger happy sonofabitch (seriousley, why was he invited?), and the hamburger bastard show up.

I don't see why we need to wait for them, especially since the hamburger bastard because his brother's here, and even if he's part invisible he looks like him enough to count.

Plus it's only like 3 nations, so I don't see why we should be giving a fuck.

The food smells insanely good though, so I think I'll go raid the kitchen soon. I made a pyramid of tomatoes this morning, and it was hard as fuck with the tomato bastard breathing down my neck about how cute it was that I was doing that.

IT'S AN ART. IT'S NOT 'CUTE'.

Oh you know, the night before, I was asleep and he tried to crawl into bed with me again. I was totally going to wake up and beat the shit out of him, buuuuut I was way too tired. And he smelled kinda good. Wowwwwwwwwwwwww no, that wasn't it. I was just tired. Yeah.

Had to recharge for the dumbfuckery I'd be facing today, y'know

the pyramid is fucking amazing by the way. Obviously because I built it.

and

oh

holy _crap_

They turned on the music

WE'RE NATIONS

NOT FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS

SO WHY ARE THEY BLASTING THAT SPEARS CHICK OF AMERICA'S?

dammit Feliciano's coming up and I can hear him already calling my name

blehhhhhh

xx

THE FUCKERS

THEY RUIN EVERYTHING

MOTHER FUCKING

UGH

!

...I think that was that Japanese poem style shit thing. Hiku? Maiku? Haiku? Who the fuck knows

* * *

**March 18th**

Sorry, I was a tiny bit agitated yesterday so I couldn't write much

...I did not just apologize to a fucking diary

journal

ANYWAYS

run down of last night events:

-handful of bastards came late, but I made sure they'd never do that again

except for the trigger-happy one. he can do whatever he wants, as long as he's aiming at Feliciano and not me.

-shitty music was played, and tomato bastard tried to dance with me. I only let him for the _good_ songs so that he wouldn't embarrass himself, and there were only like 5 of them

-Alcohol was brought out. Potato Bastard Squared brought their own beer too, so everyone would be even more trashed. The wino brought wine. And a bunch of other people got booze. I miss the parties where they'd get shit for the _hosts_

- Potato bastard #2 was the first to get piss-drunk. Denmark and Sir Eyebrows followed close behind.

-Then they danced. With each other. While taking their clothes off. Hungary filmed it. Best blackmail material ever.

ANYWAYS

France tried to get naked too but I told him I'd rip his dick off.

WHY DID EVERYONE LAUGH?

I WAS PRETTY FUCKING SERIOUS

Also:

some body replaced the pyramid of tomatoes that I so PAINSTAKINGLY built this morning with fucking hamburgers

I have a pretty good idea who it is, and I have a pretty good idea who I'm sending to that crazy knife chick, Belarus, tied up and naked and in a box labeled "To Russia, With Love"

That'll teach a fucker to mess with my tomatoes

Halfway through the party, I find Antonio getting some wine from the kitchen and tell him that now would be a good time to give me my birthday present before alcohol makes him even more stupid and he forgets

and if he took that phone call seriously , he can... wait.

HE'S MILDLY ATTRACTIVE OKAY

And he's like

"Alright" with a fucking huge grin on his face, gives me a stupid kiss and-

no I can't lie to you now that I have a lock for you, journal. We made out against the kitchen counter because he said it was again part of my 'present' and it was to 'make it even better'.

I can't believe I actually spent 5 minutes eating face with the tomato bastard

I had some wine already in me that's why I let him and my judgement was fucking impaired okay and he was just so amazed by my kissing abilities LIKE HE SHOULD BE

And I'm going to stab you through your fucking hardcover if you let anyone read you, because I might be sort of admitting that the God forsaken bastard was actually kinda turning me on

But then he was like

"ahaha, I remember a few days ago when you got shy over a peck on the cheek!"

KILLED THE MOOD _AGAIN_

so I slapped him, because he never gets it

and he grabs my arm and pulls me to the living room (Who the fuck man-handles people on their fucking birthdays? While _giggling _?)

But when we get there, everyone's already made a circle in the living room

YOU KNOW WHY

DO YOU FUCKING KNOW WHY, YOU FUCKING... JOURNAL.

...

POTATO BASTARD AND MY BROTHER ARE GETTING FUCKING MARRIED

EVERYONE WAS ALL EITHER CHEERING OR SAYING "FINALLY"

WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY MEAN "FINALLY?"

And I was all

"BUT YOU'RE ALREADY ENGAGED YOU DUMB SHIT(S)"

and they're like

"OH BUT NOW WE SET A DATE AND WE THOUGHT WE WOULD LET EVERYONE KNOW"

everyone got really happy at that point and there was more booze and all that shit and I was pretty pissed, then remember why I was in the stupid living room in the first place

So I ask Spain if I could have my present right now

and then Antonio's like

" I'll give you your present in a week or so"

WHY?

"Because it's proper etiquette. We have to wait a week or two."

ETIQUETTE FOR _WHAT_

THEY JUST ANNOUNCED THE DATE OF THEIR SURELY UNHOLY UNION

I DON'T SEE WHAT GETTING MY PRESENT THE SAME DAY HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT

WE'RE TWINS ANYWAYS. THAT MEANS WE GET OUR SHIT ON THE SAME DAY.

Sweet Mother of Lord

So I flipped him off (right after that bastard had the audacity to kiss me _again_) and got shit drunk, and I have a killer hangover

It's all his fault. ALL his fault.

...I wonder what he got me. And why he has two wait two weeks now.

Unless he...

...

.

I can't think of anything

No lie, for a second I thought he'd propose to me again, but I think he's too fucking stupid to do anything like that and take it seriously. Plus if he were to do something (stupid) like that, he would have loved to do it right after Feli's announcement because it would be "oh so cute because you're twins~" (his hypothetical words not mine)

So what could it be? Maybe a new car? Yes? And he wanted to give the keys to me in front of everyone so they would know how much more awesome I am?

Speaking of awesome and engagements

I'm going to have a potato bastard for a brother in law. and the good for nothing albino freak is going to be...ugh...RELATED to me. What the fuck! When he found me, he was all

"Now you _have _to love my awesomeness!"

and chased me around the house with that infernal bird of his, trying to get me to call him "Big Brother" and "Mr. Awesome", while he was stark_ naked _(someone always is at the parties)

what a fucker

I SEE NO AWESOMENESS

JUST DOUCHEBAGGERY

AND WHY DIDN'T ANTONIO COME HELP ME

NOT LIKE I WOULD NEED ANY BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE

I hate the potato family

I hate my brother

and I hate the tomato bastard for not giving me my fucking present

not like I'm going to make a big deal about it or anything, nor is it going to eat away at me or something, but Feliciano got _his_ , so why can't I get _mine_?

...not in that way, you perverted book of papers.

I meant the gift.

I hate everyone. Sooo much

* * *

**...yes I actually like Britney Spears a lot. Whatevarr**

**Also, I know how real haikus look like..don't worry ;p**

**reviews?**


	4. Chapter 4

**HEY THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS GUYS**

**YOU GUYS ARE SO SEXY. _SO_ SEXY.**

**+thanks to LynnyLiz for noticing in my very first entry, I skipped back from April to March. I don't know my months at all ;_; /lazytochange**

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**March 19th/20th**

I think I'll buy a second home

yes

because then I don't have to leave MY OWN FUCKING HOUSE when douchebags decide to visit

YOU BIG FUCKING POTATO

YOU SAW MY BROTHER YESTERDAY BECAUSE YOU STAYED OVER AFTER THE PARTY AND YOU TWO WERE THE REASON I COULDNT GET ANY DAMN SLEEP

AND NOW YOU DECIDE TO DO IT AGAIN BECAUSE IT'S LIKE 2 IN THE FUCKING MORNING AND YOU LIKE TO TORTURE ME AND THE WAY I WRITE MY CAPITAL LETTERS IS REALLY FUCKING SEXY, WOW,

BUT YOU AREN'T, YOU BIG FUCKBAG, AND ANYONE WITH HALF A BRAIN WOULD KNOW YOU'RE A DUMBASS

BUT I GUESS IT'S A GOOD THING MY BROTHER DOESN'T HAVE ANY

OH MY GOD

THEY

(MOSTLY MY BROTHER BUT IT'S MOSTLY POTATO FUCKER'S FAULT FOR MAKING HIM DO THAT)

WONT

SHUT

UP

FUCKITY FUCK FUCK

xx

I'm not even going to bother writing whose house I crashed at...again.

after I came, I couldn't go to sleep so I watched a tomato documentary

I can't believe the fucker has like a whole library of them

And he fell asleep ON ME while he was watching them with me

so I left him on the couch to sleep (and I left him a blanket only because the weakling was shivering)

and now I'm in his bed

and I still can't go to sleep

xx

I don't even know if I should write a new date for this. Because it's the 20th but I started writing this in the early morning. I don't know I don't know bleh

I just woke up from my siesta, which actually lasted like 6 hours because I had barely gotten any sleep and oh God my ears were still ringing from what I had to hear at my house and I'm mentally scarred and it's sort of not fair that my brother's getting laid more than me wow I didn't write that

yeah I did

well fuck

it's all that tomato bastard's fault because he's taken up way too much of my time and I can't have a normal sex life because of that

or anyone to have said normal sex life with

spain making out with me does not constitute for a sex life

I did not just think of Antonio and I having a sex life

* * *

**March 21st**

Finally got a good night's rest. and in my own bed for a change because Feliciano has to go visit some Asian country.

It's raining like fuck outside (probably that eyebrow bastard and his stupid magic because at the party I asked him if he ever had lice problems in those two furry jungles of his) but guess who wants to go out with me

let me underline that for you

go out

like in the way the american bastard says it, so like on a date.

he called me ten minutes ago, asking if I wanted to go on a date

It has got to be the _stupidest _suggestion I have ever heard, because when you know someone for a few hundred years, you don't really need to _go out _with them especially when you've lived with them for a while

so I told him that and he told me that

a) I'd have nothing better to do anyways

and

b) it would sort of give me a clue to what my gift is

also

c) it'd be cute

I was okay up until the point he said it'd be cute. WE'RE GROWN MEN. WE DON'T CUTE. CUTE IS FOR GIRLS. LITTLE GIRLS. FELICIANO.

so I said no

xx

I evidently need to work on my rejection skills so that certain thick dumbasses can understand

because two hours after he called, he showed up on my doorstep with two bright red umbrellas and asked if I was all ready to go.

so I was like

ALL READY TO GO WHERE, BASTARD

so that he'd get the hint we're not going anywhere

but he didn't so ten seconds later I'm being dragged down the fucking street to the nearby park. by then, Antonio's umbrella is already gone because he gave it to some little kid who got caught in the rain and he's sharing one with me. I didn't want him sneezing all over me when we got home, dammit

We got to the park and he wanted to sit on the benches and I told him I wasn't going to get my ass wet, so you know what the bastard does

HE sits down onto the wet bench and then pulls me onto his lap so that I stayed dry. I could feel my brain dying slightly

After giving him a well-deserved smack on the head, he was like

"So have you ever been kissed in the rain?"

the fuck? do I look like I'm some romantic teenage girl? so I glared at him and told him that

so he laughs

swipes my umbrella, closing it so I'm instantly fucking drenched

and kisses me

by now I've kissed him a few times so it's no fucking deal, but I wasn't too happy that I was simultaneously catching hypothermia at the same time, especially since I barely had a chance to put a rain coat on when we left

and then after the kiss, in which I nearly puked from the corniness, and we didn't make out (for a change?), Antonio's like

"Soooooooooooooo, any idea as to what your gift is?"

Because I'm not afraid of asking whatever the fuck I want to I was like

"Am I getting laid?"

the fucking bastard _dies _laughing

GOD he can't take anything seriousley!

after he's done, he told me that that really wasn't the birthday gift, but if I _wanted _that then he'd be happy to comply. naturally, after a right hook (because I wasn't going to slap like a priss) I stormed home

But being the kind, generous, amazing being that I am, I'm letting Antonio stay over right now because his clothes are fucking soaked and if he gets a cold I know I'd catch shit for it sooooooooooooooooooooooooo he's in some old clothes of his (the bastard's too lazy to pick up after himself when he stays over so I just store them as extra shit for myself)

and sleeping in my bed

why?

because "it's only fair since you take over my bed all the time you're over"

angryface

* * *

**March 22nd**

The tomato bastard wakes up, and calls it the second day of 'wooing'. Maybe Hungary is right, and hitting people with frying pans is a good way to knock some sense into them

I don't see how I need to be 'woo'd' or whatever anyways

not because I'd jump into his bed in that way any time he asked, because I'm not a slut shut up

but because woo'ing is for lame people who think romantic movies translate into real life

...

yeah okay now I see.

ANYWAYS

basically, he meant today was going to be date #2. atleast it's not raining.

it's occured to me that it seems kind of sudden that we're going on "dates" but we've already made out so whatever.

...

...

I've made out with Antonio and I've gone on a date with him already.

I didn't question myself while doing so.

WHAAAAT the fuck.

xx

we went on a picnic.

I don't even want to call it that.

We went to some beachy area near my place and ate churros

atleast we were alone ebcause I'd have to skin anyone alive if they saw us

especially when Antonio put arm around me

and then tried to force feed me more churros

I don't want people thinking I'm some lardass like the american bastard. i asked him how this was supposed to "woo" me. so he makes out with me instead.

It would have totally sucked if I wasn't so fucking amazing at kissing though. But I am, so obviously it was good.

then we went home because it began to rain again

He's staying over again, and I'm doing some serious thinking as to why I'm doing all this

I think it's probably one of those natural things, since we've known each other forever

well

not _natural_

since he raised me

damn

that sounds morally wrong

whatever

nations don't need morals

* * *

**March 23rd**

Lameass world meeting today. Was bored out of my skull. Spain and I got ice cream after, and I suppose it counts as a date because he paid, then tried to hold my hand (but I didn't let him because I'm not a girl) but then two fuckbag friends of his, one loud and obnoxious and one extremely perverted found us and attached themselves to us for the rest of the day.

I told them to get lost, and that we were currently busy, but they said everything's more fun when they're involved

my ass

anyways, tomato bastard has no spine so they were with us practically the whole time

antonio said he's going to "make it up" to me, and got a bunch of movies to watch with me.

I bet they're all really fucking lame

like those stupid friends of his

**

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**

**March 24th**

Well my back hurts like a motherfucker because I fell asleep on the couch and Antonio didn't move me into a more comfortable not-sitting position (he had fallen asleep too but the bastard could have atleast woken up to make sure I wouldn't be sleeping in a way that would kill me the next morning)

He gave me a massage though to work out some of the kinks so I guess that bastard's good for something

xx

Date #...4 I guess I'll count yesterday, whatever

He took me to some fancy restaurant..._cornyyyyy_

we were in like dress shirts and all that shit.

He paid again though (like I'd pay for it anyways)

Also he asked me if I could guess yet what my present was yet.

I seriousley repeat my question

"Am I getting laid?"

because it's sure as hell looking like that

he didn't laugh this time but he told me that's not the gift and its not my fucking problem that he gives weird hints. how is whatever we've done "clues" ?

so we ate

he even had the audacity to take my hand and kiss it halfway through the date, fully taking advantage of the fact that I had wine

and after that he took me down to the beach again and we just sat there watching the moon that wasnt clouded for a change and watched the waves

I swear I'm living in some fucking chick flick

ugh

I felt like puking at the cheesiness.

and with all the wine

wow

I feel gay writing this

and I feel really gay reading this over again

ANYWAYS

for a change the bastard went back to his own place

I REAAAAAAAAAAALLY want to know what the hell he's getting me because I actually have like no fucking clue. If it's not sex (I wouldn't enjoy it if it was dammitdammitdammit) then what the fuck would it be

but I kinda really do have to admit that if he was doing this all to only get laid I'd be kinda...disappointed.

**

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**March 25th**

Dates are getting longer and these entries are getting shorter because now Antonio takes up just waaaay too much of my time

I'm still clueless as to what the fucking gift is

watch it be something really stupid like a tomato-shaped television

this bastard so totally would

I sound like Poland

like

totally

like

fucking

totally

bitch

it's been over a week since the party so I think a certain spanish bastard should just get a move on with it because goddamnit I'm getting impatient

ANYWAYS

the date

made me puke, literally

and not because it was cheesy, it was because we went to a fucking amusement park near either American bastard or his brother's place. don't remember

it was fucking _horrible_

Antonio dragged me to all these stupid rides, all these weirdass ones that looked like they shouldn't exist in the first place. They looked like they were built on fucking toothpicks, dammit

there was this one where we rose up like a fucktillion feet in the air and then it randomly dropped and I think I died

and instead of letting my soul go to heaven, it was decided that it would stay in my body and suffer the hell that was the park with the devil. Who was Antonio.

I have the best fucking headache in the world right now so I'm not even going to bother writing about the rest of the day because i feel like I'm going to pass out

I really feel stupid for writing out like every fucking kiss in this stupid diary

buuuuuuuut

we almost had s

when we got home we almost got it on in the couch except the fact that I felt like my head was turning inside out was being a big cockblock

so we didnt

and I made him go home

(BECAUSE HE STILL WONT GIVE THE FUCKING PRESENT)

oh god my head feels like it weighs a ton and I feel like I have a hangover but not you know fuck this goodnight

**

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**March 26th**

Date #6

Apparantly is at his place. To make up for yesterday.

I bet he's going to do something really fucking lame, like make me a dinner or something.

He said he *might* give me my present today, that's the only reason I'm actually going to go. Feliciano wants to dress me up. Why?

_Why?_

xx

Wow.

Woow.

_Woooooow._

I didn't get my damn present but.

Wow.

**

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**sorry for such a late update ._.**

**Reviews please?**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm glad you guys like reading this story :D**

**love.**

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**March 28th**

Alright so I finally came home this afternoon, and I can write in this in peace

or relative peace because mother _fuck _I can't move

well I can but it hurts like a bitch

so I don't want to

anyways

I don't even know how I'm going to write this without sounding like a virginal yet whoremonal teen

So I'm just going to go in sequential order.

1) I woke up

2) Unimportant things happened

3) I went to tomato bastard's house for our "date"

He made some reaaaallly fucking...decent food.

he was also polite enough to y'know, make sure his sorry excuses for friends didn't interrupt

albino freak did at one point, but spain chased him away with that big axe

then we had dinner and blah blah blah we talked and blah blah blah dipshit wouldnt give me my present blah blah blah

then

man fuck this shit, let's just get to the good stuff

and THEN

we were in the kitchen, I was sitting on the counter eating some pretty awesome tomatoes, while he was doing dishes and shit

and then, because I had a lot of wine, I asked him if he wanted a tomato and he's like okay

and because I am just the smoothest man out there (italian, remember?), I pull him to me and and using my tongue, shove a piece of unchewed tomato in his mouth

that does not sound sexy when i write it down

BUT IT WAS

because we ended up making out. Next thing you know, we're both hard, both horny as hell, and then finally, both naked.

We didn't even bother to switch locations

not as often as we switched positions

fuck yes

that bastard should be glad I'm naturally good in bed

Or in the kitchen. On the floor. Because that's where we ended up doing it.

The first time, anyways

Tiramisu is so much better when you're eating it off someone.

Halfway through, the tomato bastard asks if it's alright, and if we're going too fast or something

I told him that we've had a couple of hundred years or so to get to know each other and that that's _really _not something you should be asking someone right before you give them head

**JESUS**

whatever

see , I still can't see why people think I'm permanently PMSing

like fuck

I got_ laid_

yeah it was that tomato bastard, but still

and then I stayed yesterday too

you can guess what I did

or who I did

or who did me

I'd never pay that bastard a compliment to his face but holy _hell _he knows what he's doing

and since I'm so naturally amazing at it already

it's natural that the sex would be mind blowing

But before I finish this entry (theres nothing else interesting to write anyways_

do you know what he did?

he told me he loved me

over and over again

but I never said it back

should I have?

* * *

**March 29th**

Predictably, Feliciano yesterday picked up on my predicament

and baked me a fucking cake

AS IF I HAD TROUBLE GETTING LAID BEFORE ANTONIO OR SOMETHING

the only reason I didn't was because..

...

...

some bastards take up WAY too much time.

Honestly, I don't think I got to do much "socializing" purely because Antonio took up so much time..And I'm not talking about a spain/south italy thing, I'm actually talking about me as in Lovino and Antonio

I don't know why, but most of the more memorable memories in my personal life have included Antonio.

I swear, it's like I'm mentally dependent on the little fucker or something.

or he's mentally dependent on me. God.

i need more friends. well i have a fuckton of friends, I just need more than one that I spend excessive amounts of time with.

* * *

**March 30th**

once upon a time, there were two brothers

they were the shit, one more so than the other

then, less amazing one, also the less hotter one, met some big potato eating weirdo

right as a tomato bastard arrived, saying "mi queirdo"

the cooler one was smart, and trying to avoid them all

but the stupid one was stupid, and..

liked fucking the potato douche too much but hey at least I'm home alone again.

SO BOREEEED

and antonio has a meeting so he's not there to bother me either.

day long siesta, yes?

**

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**March 31st**

Slept through yesterday and half of today. Fuuuck yeaaaaah.

Antonio called. Tommorow I get my present.

FINAL FUCKING LY

After he said that, he also asked what we were

and I was like

nations, no shit

and he's like ahahaha no I mean you and I

and I'm like

...

dude.

we _fucked_

I think it's obvious we're something

and he's all like, alright just need to double check

so. fucking. dumb.

JEEZ

anyways, I wonder what the gift is still...now I know getting laid for sure wasn't the gift, as ...fine, as fun as it was.

Antonio's been doing the whole "dating thing" with me for the past few days, and they've all been different from the usual time we've spent together.

okay obviously since there was sex and stuff, it was different

but I don't know, it seemed...

man I feel like a pansy, but it seemed_ emotionally_ different.

I don't even know what I'm saying

He seems even more open to me than ever, and for some reason that makes me kind of uncomfortable

He's also actually treating me like a lover

a legitimate one, not a fuck buddy one

like before he hung up, he told me he loved me again, and I couldn't say it back to him again. But I didn't feel the need to.

why the fuck

what

the more i write the more confused I get

and I shouldn't be getting confused, I'm not stupid.

so what?

ugh

I don't know

maybe I'm getting a proposal

oh shit

what if I am

* * *

**April 1st**

APRIL FOOLS, MOTHERFUCKERS

but not

because it's lame

laaaaaaame

LAME LAME LAME

what if I wrote it in bubbly letters

**LAMEEE**

no one even bothers pranking anyone anymore either

prussia tried, but he couldn't pull anything off 'cus he's a freak of nature.

france tried to get in everyone's pants but failed

miserably

k

he got like 4 people but thats still failure

Antonio came over because I would get my gift today. sounded fucking giddy on the phone too. so I let him over, cause I've waited long enough

well, I *WAS* going to get my (VERY FUCKING BELATED) birthday gift today

not that I've been dying of anticipation or anything, but I'm getting tired of having to wait forever for this shit

but the bastard won't give it to me today. Why? Because he realised it's April Fool's, and he says it would not be "appropriate" for me to get it on this day

DOES THAT MAKE SENSE

ANTONIO TALKING ABOUT BEING APPROPRIATE

?

Anyways. I told him to go fuck himself

he said I'll get it for sure tommorow

he's in the shower right now

GODDAMNIT ANTONIO YOU BETTER NOT GET YOUR MANJUICE ALL OVER MY SHOWER

i should go make sure that he doesn't

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**aieee i was supposed to update this earlier, sorry ._.**

**one more diary entry!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Last diary entry**

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**DONT GIVE A SHIT WHAT THE DATE IS**

alright so

you BITCH

I HATE YOU, YOU STUPID..BOOK OF PAPERS

so much, so fucking much

HOW DARE YOU LET YOURSELF BE READ?

HOW DARE YOU LET YOURSELF BE MISUNDERSTOOD?

you ruined everything.

EVERYTHING.

i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you

I'm going to use you to stoke the fire in which I will burn Antonio

* * *

**but not the last chapter. OH HO HO~**

**tune in next time for the final, _final_ chapter of Talk of Tomatoes :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, we're at the final chapter :D I actually really enjoyed writing a diary fic, so I'm thinking about doing another character.**

**Spain? Russia? **

**So if you have a suggestion/want to see a diary fic for a certain character, let me know, because I'm looking for character ideas :D**

******I was all tee hee I won't post for 5 days after the cliff hanger. Then Monday came and school gave me a whole lot of work. To procastinate on.**

**So now I present to you the**

**-flourishes-**

**THE FINAL CHAPTER**

**for Talk of Tomatoes**

**

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**

Lovino groaned as he slowly slipped out of sleep and into the realm of consciousness.

Mother _fucker_, his whole body ached like hell.

One day, he would learn how to _properly_ say no to that tomato bastard.

Hmm. Speaking of tomato bastards, he noticed that his bed seemed devoid of one. Groaning again, he assumed Spain had gone down to make breakfast or something. He pulled Antonio's pillow towards himself for extra comfort. It was then that he saw a note fluttering onto the bed. It had been written on a scrap piece of paper, and the handwriting was unmistakable.

_Sorry to leave so abruptly. Call me when you can._

_Love, Antonio_

Lovino let out and irritated sigh and rolled his eyes. Of course the tomato bastard would have left so suddenly. Probably just remembered that he forgot to feed his stupid turtles or something.

He considered calling Antonio right at the moment, but decided he had better things to do, like eat breakfast or write in his journal about the amazing sex that they had the night before.

Not that he was _girly _or anything for consistently keeping a journal or taking it around everywhere he went or anything. He just liked keeping record of things.

He rolled over and reached to open his top bedside drawer, where he kept his diary hidden under multiple novels. He rummaged through, but could find neither the key nor the journal. He shrugged and closed the drawer. He had probably left the book somewhere in the living room or something.

That meant breakfast had moved up on his priority list. Normally, he would yell for Feliciano to make him something but his younger brother was out at Germany's doing-

Ew. _Puke._ Lovino did not to be thinking about that the first thing in the morning.

So he swung his legs over the bed and got up, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through his lower back.

Well, wincing a lot. Antonio hadn't exactly been gentle the night before. At least it was good, though Lovino would shoot himself in the foot before saying it out loud to the tomato bastard.

Pulling a baggy white t shirt (Antonio's, most likely) from his closet, he slowly padded downstairs towards the kitchen. When he got there, he found his journal sitting on the counter, key lying beside it and a tomato on top of it.

Lovino furrowed his eyebrows. If that damned tomato bastard read his journal, he would have to give him a swift, hard kick in the testicles. And then one in the head for good measure.

He took the tomato, and after wiping it off on his shirt, proceeded to take a big bite out of it. At the same time, the phone rang. Lovino looked at the caller ID and picked it up, extremely irritated that he had been interrupted in eating his food.

"What?" he spat out, flecks of tomato flying out.

_"Lovi! You're awake?"_

"Take a guess, bastard. "

_"Ahaha Lovino, there's no need to be so cranky~"_

Was it just him, or did Antonio sound a little bit tired?

"It's your fault I'm like this, dumbass. What do you want?"

_"Ah, it's about the birthday present..." _

"Yeah, the one I'm getting today, right?"

There was a long silence, and Lovino scowled. Remembering that Spain could not see his face through the phone, he decided to talk instead.

"Right, tomato bastard?"

_"Ahahaha, well you see, Lovi, that might actually not be happening..."_

Another pause then-

"What the hell do you mean I'm not getting my present?"

_"Well, I don't really think I should give it to you anymore."_

Stupid, stupid, _stupid _tomato bastard! What the hell did he mean he wasn't giving Lovino his present anymore?

"I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR FUCKING _EVER_. WHY AM I NOT GETTING MY PRESENT?"

_"Lovi, there's no need to yell-"_

"FELICIANO GOT _HIS _PRESENT ON HIS BIRTHDAY, DAMMIT! WHY AM I NOT GETTING _MINE_?"

Lovino heard Antonio sigh softly on the other line. Lovino was positively _fuming. _It had been over two weeks since he was supposed to get his present, and _now _Antonio decided to suddenly not just give it to him?

"Hey bastard! Did you die or something? I asked, why the hell am I not getting my present?"

Another sigh, and then

_"I don't think you'd like it..."_

"Huh? What makes you say that?"

_"...Please don't hurt me Lovi, but I read your diary.."_

Lovino didn't reply. Instead, his face was busy getting red with fury.

_"Ahahaha, I can feel your face burning up all the way from here!"_

"You-YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU READ MY DIARY?"

_"Well after last night, I had been awake and I saw your diary just lying on the bedside table, and I was curious so I sort of flipped through the pages and.."_

"..."

_"And then I read a couple of the latest ones, and I thought that it would really not be a good idea anymore to propose to you."_

In a fraction of a second, the colour in Lovino's face absolutely drained.

"P-propose? What the fuck do you mean _propose_?"

_"Well from the looks of it," _And he'd be damned if Antonio didn't say this with a sad tinge to his voice. _"You don't really love me, so I wouldn't want to...ehh...this is hard."_

Lovino could not think of an appropriate reply, so instead, he just slammed the phone down on the receiver, hanging up on Antonio.

Stupid. Fucking. Diary. What the hell had he written in there that Antonio would have read and used as an excuse to not _propose _to him? What would he have read to make him think that Lovino didn't love him?

Well not that he did or anyth-

Ah, who the hell was he kidding. As he scanned the entries with narrowed eyes, he knew that he _loved_ the damn bastard.

Loved him. Damn.

There. No fan fare upon the big realization. Just acknowledgement as he sifted through pages, and maybe some self-pity, because Lovino thought-no, _knew_, Antonio was the densest thing to walk on the planet.

He _still _couldn't find out what the hell Antonio was talking about. He had written about Antonio so much, so why the hell had Antonio thought that he hated him or something shitty like that?

Feeling an extremely angry rant coming on, Lovino flipped to a blank page in his diary, reaching for the matching pen that had come with it. Midway through writing the date, he remembered that the stupid book had been the cause of all his problems.

_Fuck_, was he pissed.

_x A few hours, tomatoes, a hot bath, and a few rants to himself later x_

"Hey bastard! I know you're in there! Open up!" Lovino banged the door harshly. "Stupid! Spain! Come!"

The fifth time he attempted to hit the door, it swung open, and Antonio answered, looking surprised.

"Lovi? What are you doing here?"

"I think you damn well know." Lovino snapped, not moving from the door step. Antonio still looked slightly confused. Wait- but where those his eyes fucking _twinkling_?

"The proposal, dumbass!" Lovino prodded Antonio in the chest. "I want to know why you wouldn't propose to me."

"Eh, I thought I already explained it on the phone.." Antonio raised a hand and scratched his head. "Because you don't love me..hey, you're becoming red again! Ahaha, cute!"

"WHY." Lovino balled his fist and hit it against Antonio's chest, not too hard but hard enough to make him wince. "WOULD." Hit. "YOU." Hit. "THINK THAT, BASTARD?"

The last line was punctuated with a smack upside the chin, and Antonio frowned.

"It's not very polite to hit people, Lovi~"

"Polite, my ass. You read my fucking journal!" Lovino dug the offensive book out of his jacket, and threw it Antonio. Antonio caught it, and gave him a curious look. "Read it! Tell me what the hell was written in there that made you think I didn't love you!"

"Lovi? Do you-"

"Read it and tell me before I shove your head up your ass, bastard!"

"Eh...alright...do you want to come in though?"

"TELL ME!"

Antonio looked uncertainly at the raging Lovino, then down to the book.

"If you say so. But come in."

And before Lovino could protest, Antonio grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him inside, through the large house, and into the living room. He sat him down on the large sofa, then plopped down beside him.

They sat there for a silent, as Antonio looked through the pages and Lovino looked at him expectantly. After a few moments, when it seemed like Antonio wasn't actually reading anything, Lovino grew impatient.

"Well?"

"Um...well...this is sort of awkward?"

"No shit."

"Uh, here...see...you said you spent an unhealthy amount of time with me.." Antonio began, sounding unsure and looking at Lovino.

"I do." Lovino replied curtly. "Continue."

"And that I'm an annoying bastard.."

"You are."

"..and you don't feel the need to tell me you love me."

"So?" Lovino deadpanned, still not seeing Antonio's point.

"So...I think it's pretty obvious you don't love me."

Lovino stared at him for a good fifteen seconds. Was that _really _all that it had taken? He raised his palm to his forehead, but then caught the pitiful expression on Antonio's face.

"Hey, bastard, don't look at me like that."

But Antonio continued looking slightly crestfallen. Lovino sighed, and tried, for once, to talk in a less violent way.

"Antonio.." Green eyes perked up at the use of something other than 'bastard'. "You're stupid. Like, _really_ fucking stupid."

Antonio pursed his lips, as if he was on the brink of a reply but decided to just shut up for a change.

"I mean, I obviously like you. I fucked you didn't I?" Antonio grimaced at the word and Lovino rolled his eyes. "Fine, we made _love._ Whatever. I think that is an indicator unto itself."

"But Lovino, it's not just physical."

"Well no shit it's not, but it's part of it, right? "

"Yeah but.."

"I'm Catholic. I should be screwing a hot chick like Belgium or something, not a man like you. But since I am, it's got to mean something, right?"

"I suppose.."

"Look, bastard. Am I really the person who would go on declaring my love out loud?"

"It would be nice." Antonio muttered, looking down at his lap. Lovino glared at him.

"Well, I _don't_. " It was kind of killing Lovino on the inside, having to be so direct with his feelings, but he knew that it would be the only way Antonio would really understand. "I call you a bastard, because you _are _a bastard, but I'm alright with it. Sort of. And if I didn't want to spend all that time with you, I wouldn't have."

Lovino paused, taking time to gauge Antonio's reaction, before plodding on.

"And, I don't feel the need to tell you I love you because I _assumed_ you would already know. Especially after what we've recently done."

Antonio remained silent, before quietly replying, "You know what they say about assume.."

"Yeah yeah, makes an ass out of you and me."

It was Antonio's turn to sigh, and he lifted up an arm and wrapped it around Lovino's shoulders. Lovino let himself be brought closer to Antonio, but made sure to keep a scowl on his face.

"You're very hard to read, you know." Antonio murmured, then pressed a kiss to the top of Lovino's head. "I can make others happy easily but with you I can't. It's not as hard to make you happy as it is to keep you happy. And I don't want to mess things up by getting too ahead of myself."

"I have been happy, stupid." came the mumbled response. "Fucking rainbows and shit and all that, you know."

"I'm sure." Lovino could feel Antonio's smile on his scalp. "Ahh, it's cute to see you so honest."

"..don't push this, dumbass."

Antonio chuckled, as Lovino pulled back at him and looked at him.

"So, what about you?" Lovino asked.

"Hm? What about me?"

"Bastard, what do you mean what about you? Do you love me?"

"Eh, and you were calling _me _dense..."

"Fuck you." Lovino stuck his tongue out, the gesture childish. Antonio smiled, and then kissed Lovino's cheek, feeling the blush.

"I do."

"Well _good_. Now propose to me." Lovino crossed his arms and looked at Antonio expectantly.

"You're very blunt, aren't you."

"Yes. Now propose."

"It wouldn't be very romantic if we did it now..."

"You had your chance for romance over the past two weeks. Just do it, dammit."

"...If you say so."

Antonio reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a small, black ring box. When he popped the box, Lovino stared at the ring. Two small snakes were winded around each other, each with a glistening ruby eye.

"Christ on a pony, Antonio, I thought you were the country of_ passion_."

"Ahaha, well," Antonio said, scratching the back of his head. "I thought all the other rings were a bit too... _girly_ for you, and would have earned me a sure rejection."

Lovino looked at the ring again. Yes, he probably would have been less than happy if he had gotten some girly wedding band. At least this ring looked pretty badass. Almost as badass as him.

"So, Lovino Vargas."

And the use of the human names were _very _significant, because this was not the joining of two countries, but two people.

"Yes, Antonio Carriedo?"

Antonio leaned in and pressed a swift, chaste kiss to Lovino's lips.

"Marry me."

"Fuck _yes._"

**

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**oh god the fluff /shot**

**I'm a sucker for dinky, "ordinary" love confession/proposal scenes**

**Okay so. To everyone who review'd/fav'd/alert'd this story, I LOVE YOU.**

**A lot.**

**Like**

**A _LOT._**

** Even if I didn't reply to all them, every single one meant a lot to me. Thanks for taking the time to read my story, and writing feedback :3**

**again, I LOVE YOU.**

**now go stalk LynnyLiz's profile for the cool story she wrote for me :D**


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